


Invocation: A Golden Cuffs Story

by Kelyon



Series: Golden Cuffs 'Verse [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelyon/pseuds/Kelyon
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin hears a voice calling for him, and sets off to find its sourceNominated in the 2021 TEAs in the category of Best First Meeting
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Golden Cuffs 'Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698358
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Invocation: A Golden Cuffs Story

**Author's Note:**

> So in chapter three of Golden Cuffs, Belle mentions that she called for the Dark One once and nothing happened. She was not entirely correct. 
> 
> Based on Robert Carlyle's headcanon from The Happy Ending Convention 2017.

_ “Rumpelstiltskin.” _

He was working in his tower the first time he heard her voice. It was late at night, through of course he did not feel physical exhaustion the way humans did. He did get bored, however, and after days of trying to decipher the arcane text of an ancient spell, the Dark One was more than ready to heed a possible diversion. 

It was true that he could hear his true name whenever it was spoken, but he was never compelled to answer that call. Even if some hapless soul said his name three times, there was nothing about repetition that bound him. Not unless the speaker held the dagger that was currently hidden in a room that had no door. Free as he was, Rumpelstiltskin could pick and choose what deals he made, what calls he answered, what voices he followed.

As it happened, the voice that tried to summon him now piqued his interest. It was a woman’s voice, though whether it was actually attached to a woman remained to be seen. Unusual for those desperate enough to ask for him, the voice sounded calm and unhurried. The voice was clear, and there was the  _ slightest _ hint of sensuality to it.

That intrigued him further. It had been a while since he had last spoken to a sensuous woman--or at least, to any sensuous woman he didn’t already know much better than he had ever wanted to. 

Reaching out with senses beyond hearing, Rumpelstiltskin sought more information about the voice that was brave enough to call for the Dark One. 

Magic enabled him to see the voice as a collection of glowing tendrils, like ribbons winding through the darkness of a maiden’s braid. It was blue. A clear, light blue, the color of the sky on a fine spring day. In the complex hierarchy of magical colors, light blue was third only to white and yellow in terms of goodness. One of Rumpelstiltskin’s more annoying enemies dealt entirely in blue magic and of course  _ she _ fancied herself the most moral of all the powers in this world.

So, this voice belonged to someone pure and innocent and good. That goodness made his hackles rise. A dark instinct poured into him, to find the goodness and smother it, corrupt it. He wanted to kill that spark of light and replace it with his own bitter darkness.

He dug his claws into his wooden work table, but kept examining the voice. 

_ There.  _ In the midst of the pale blue, he found what had first interested him about this voice. He sensed it in the  _ el _ sound of his name, the slight smack of soft lips after the  _ p _ . The color of that syllable was still blue, still the color of goodness. But there was something darker and richer about that part of the voice. It was not a lifeless sky blue, but vibrant cobalt, the color of sapphires and royalty.

There was something about that blue that begged to be tied up in gold.

Closing his eyes, Rumpelstiltskin traced the imprint of the voice back to its source. He followed the trail of shimmering sound and the sweet, fresh scent of blue. Without leaving the castle, he crossed the boundaries of towns and kingdoms until his hands pressed against a pane of glass. Without opening his eyes, he knew that he had been led to the back of a mirror. 

_ Ah _ , he noted with disappointment. So this was one of  _ those _ situations. A game. Children playing with unfathomable powers. Not that most adults could properly fathom him either. Everyone seemed to think that the Dark One could be controlled, and  _ everyone, always, _ was wrong.

Spite and irritation rose up from his throat. Immortal though he may be, his time was valuable and he wasn’t going to waste it by indulging in the superstitions of infants. He would do just as well to leave this non-place without even deigning to open his eyes and look in the face of the fool who had tried to summon him.

And yet… 

Children could make deals as well as adults. Often they were shrewder and harder to fool. No matter the age, everyone wanted something, and everyone had something they could give in order to get their hearts’ desire. Often, children had more power than they knew. And there was nothing wrong with seeing what some little chit wanted. 

If nothing else, he could make a face to give the sprat nightmares and teach them a lesson about playing with magic. That would be amusing. 

“Alright,” he said. He took a moment to ensure that he would be unheard and unseen. “Let’s find out who you are, dearie.”

When he opened his eyes, he looked directly into the face of a young girl.

Oh.

So the voice had not been an illusion, it  _ did _ belong to a woman. A young woman, to be sure. She seemed just old enough to begin thinking that getting any older was no longer something to look forward to. 

As soon as Rumpelstiltskin saw this girl, he understood her.  _ That’s _ why this woman was playing the games of childhood.  _ That _ was why she sat alone in a dark room with one candle in front of a mirror and spoke the name of the greatest and most evil power in the world. This was her last chance to do something foolish and reckless and extraordinary. This girl was playing in the lingering twilight of time, refusing to grow up before the sun had completely set on the last moments of her innocence. 

Perhaps she was a little desperate after all. 

He knew the game she was playing now, one of those mysterious rituals of childhood that no one ever learns, but everybody always seems to know. To summon a demon, you must sit alone in a room lit only by one candle. You must look in a mirror and say the evil one’s name. But you can only say the name once to see its face. If you say the name twice, it will reach out of the mirror and grab you, and if you say it three times it will whisk you away to its evil kingdom and no one will ever be able to rescue you.

That summoning wouldn’t work, of course. Not on any evil creature except for him, and even then only when it suited his whims to answer such a call. If such paltry tricks were all it took to call upon dark spirits, the world would be an even grimmer place than it already was. 

Reaching out beyond the mirror, he could sense giggles from other rooms in this little manor house. The girl’s friends were not brave enough to try this magic themselves. They had probably dared her to do this. All of them knew they were too old for this sort of thing. But they also knew that this would be one of their last chances to be so silly. All of them had less than a year before they were married off. Then their hours would be entirely devoted to their husbands and their households and their children. They would never get to play like this again.

The girl in the mirror sighed and Rumpelstiltskin brought his attention back to her. Orange candlelight flickered over her smooth skin. Not a pockmark or a pimple, she seemed to be made of porcelain. But she was no figurine carved from marble or ivory. This girl was  _ alive _ . She was flesh and bone and spirit. She had desires and dreams that she never told anyone. She had called him for a reason. She  _ wanted _ him for something.

She was beautiful.

A strange desire overtook him then: He wanted to touch her face. When was the last time he had held something soft and lovely in his hands? Vividly, he imagined the warmth of this girl, the way her breath would shake in delight and anticipation. He would cradle her cheeks in his palms and she would relax into his touch. Perhaps she would let out another sigh, peaceful and content to be with him. Then he would rake his claws over her flawless face until streaks of blood ran down her cheeks like tears. The child would scream and weep and hate him with all the fury of her tiny heart. 

And the Dark One would laugh at her pain. 

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed. He took a step back, in this place that had no dimensions. He shook his head to clear it of those evil thoughts. He had no reason to hurt this girl. The desire to do so was just another irrational impulse of the darkness. He only wanted to touch her. 

But there was nothing he could touch that he would not destroy. 

Again, the girl moved. She drummed her fingers on the wooden surface underneath the mirror. She seemed bored now. How long had she been waiting for him to appear? The curve of her mouth dipped down into a pout and her lips were lush and full. 

Pulse racing, Rumpelstiltskin came up to the girl again. Now he wanted those lips. He wanted them smiling and speaking to him, wanted them grinning at him, laughing at his jokes. He wanted to watch those lips form a perfect O of delight as he pleasured that girl in ways he  _ knew _ she couldn’t imagine. 

He wanted those lips against his skin. They looked so soft, so pink. He wanted them pressed quickly against his cheek, dragged leisurely over his chest. Perhaps someday he might even dare to dream that he would feel those lips against his. He could plunder the girl’s mouth, leave her screaming and gasping. With a little training, he could make those sweet lips  _ beg _ to be wrapped around his cock. 

He bit back a groan at that thought. It had been too long since he had had any pleasurable company. Jefferson had been married for nearly ten years now, and there had been no one since. And not even Jefferson had ever sparked a feeling in him like this girl did. This  _ yearning _ , not just release but for feeling itself. This girl--just her face, just her  _ lips-- _ made him want to slough off the shell of isolation that he had built over himself these past few years. He could know this lovely creature, and he could allow her to know him for a time.

He shook his head. This was just another mad impulse. This girl was not special, she was just  _ pretty _ . It had been too long since he had seen anyone so  _ beautiful _ . And he was evil. He wanted to take her as soon as he saw her--no better than a petty thief eyeing a fat purse.

Or was he a starving beggar in front of a tray of fresh pies? Surely this girl would taste delicious. Surely having her near him would be the  _ sweetest _ thing. Perhaps it would be worth it to take the risk. Perhaps he could gorge himself on pleasure while it lasted. He could make it worth her while. And even when she was gone--because she  _ would _ leave, everyone left him eventually--even after that, he would have the memories of this pretty thing. This morsel too delectable to leave alone. 

The girl moved. She leaned back in her chair and slouched, frowning at her reflection in the mirror. It seemed her patience had been defeated by his refusal to reveal himself. Absently, she began to wave her hand over the candle. Her fingers grazed over the flame and it flickered, threatened to go out. Now she held her hand steady over the fire and stared into the mirror without blinking.

There was no way she could know she was staring directly at the Dark One. 

There was no way she could know he was staring right back at her.

Her eyes were blue. It was a simple fact, but it took Rumpelstiltskin’s breath away. The girl’s eyes were the same color as her voice. Pure, crystalline, light blue. It was a color of goodness, but in that moment he could see it only as the color of beauty itself. 

Her gaze was steady and unwavering. She couldn’t see him--he  _ knew _ she couldn’t see him--but still those blue eyes bore into him. He looked at her and it was like staring at the sun. 

But he didn’t want to look away. 

Slowly, the shape of her eyes altered. They began to widen and tense up. Her head shook a little, but she didn’t blink. 

Rumpelstiltskin blinked. The child was in pain. Something was hurting her--the candle! Foolish girl still had her hand over the flame. Her soft skin would blister and burn and still she would not look away. 

He had to help her! In that moment, he didn’t care how absurd it was for the Dark One to want to help anyone. The girl had no idea that he was there, but she had to listen to him! 

“Stop!” he ordered.

The girl jumped back away from the mirror and looked around the room as though she had heard something. She hadn’t, of course. Not with her ears. Only now did she seem to realize the pain she was in. She looked at her hand and brought her palm to her lips.

_ I want to kiss that _ , Rumpelstiltskin thought. He found himself panting as he looked at the girl.  _ I want to hurt you and then kiss you all better. You would look so sweet in pain. Or in pleasure. Just so long as you’re mine, dearie. _

For a moment, the girl kept her blue eyes averted from the mirror. He knew she hadn’t seen him or heard his outburst--but she had still felt something, and she had felt it deeply. She kept her head bowed and cradled her hand in her lap. A shudder went through her. 

Her breathing was just as labored as his. 

Suddenly, the door opened and flooded the room with light. A pair of giggling girls in their night dresses burst into the room. They surrounded the girl and blocked the view of her from the mirror. Even through the glass, he could hear their chatter ring in his ears.

“What happened, Belle? Did you see it?”

“Was it real? Was it as horrible as the stories say?”

“Did it offer to make you a deal?”

“Did it want your firstborn child?”

“Tell us, Belle! Tell us  _ everything _ !”

The girl laughed and stood up with her friends. “There’s nothing to tell! Nothing happened. I told you, the Dark One isn’t  _ real _ .”

The other two girls faces’ fell. But his girl-- _ Belle _ \--smirked. Rumpelstiltskin recognized the expression of someone who has once again proven herself to be the smartest person in the room.

“Well maybe you didn’t say it right,” one of the girls said. “I’ve heard some people say there’s more of a  _ schz _ sound.”

“Then  _ you _ can try it.” Belle picked up the candle and turned away from the mirror without a second glance at him. She led the other two girls out of the dark room. “Now, if we want to keep scaring ourselves silly, I know just the book…”

The girl’s voice trailed off as the three of them went back to the room they had come from. Rumpelstiltskin stayed in the darkness behind the mirror for a long moment. 

So…

The girl--Belle--was beautiful, and intelligent, and not averse to pain. She had called for him, but perhaps there was something about him that could call to her. Perhaps she was strong enough to endure his company for a while. Perhaps this pretty thing was even odd enough to enjoy it.

If nothing else, it could be a pleasant diversion. And he would give her enough gold and magic to make her feel it was worth the price.

At that moment, Rumpelstiltskin made up his mind. It might take time, it might take years, but someday little Belle would call for him again. And he knew everything that he would ask of her. 

Back in his castle, the Dark One opened his eyes and grinned wickedly to himself. He could already imagine the taste of that pretty thing on his tongue. 

“I shall have her.” 

Not forever, no matter what he might tell the child to frighten her. He would let her go eventually. He wasn’t looking for  _ love _ , after all. But he would take this woman, and he would use her until he had worn out her charms and grown bored with her. Or until her misery wore down his evil and he released her. For a while, at least, he would have a woman again, someone he could play with. Someone whose innocence he could replace with pleasurable appetites. It wouldn’t change his life, but it would be a lot of fun.

Rumpelstiltskin licked his lips and said the lovely promise again:

“I shall have her.”


End file.
